Authors: Calista Fox
His friend was silent for a moment, processing. Then he
asked, “So why give her the necklace? If you have no intention of invoking the
gift, what would be the point, other than to establish she belon—Oh.” Morgan
got to his feet and began to pace. “Your desire to mark your territory could
come with severe consequences, my Lord.”
“I understand that.”
A grave expression crossed the general’s face. “It’s not
worth it, Darien. It might even be hazardous for her.”
“Or helpful. No demon would lay a hand on her.”
“From your alliance. But those who haven’t pledged their
allegiance to you and your laws…?”
He sighed. Of course he’d considered this.
“What if it undermines your authority?” Morgan further
challenged. “Claiming a human lover could very easily give the illusion your
sympathies have shifted away from your own species.”
“That’s never been the case in the past.”
“These are much different times than in the past, Darien.”
With a scowl, he said, “I’m aware of that.”
“And she typically has a say when something goes awry in the
village. That could become a reflection upon you.”
“But she doesn’t serve Ryleigh in an official capacity. She
clearly has some power within the community, but essentially, she’s just a
villager. It’s not as though we’re going to butt heads on military matters.
That’s what you and the slayers do.”
“You should think twice about this.” Morgan raised his hands
as though to indicate that was all he’d say on the matter.
Darien nodded. “I’ll take that under advisement.”
Morgan hesitated, but then said, “I have messages to send to
the stewards and patrols to set up. I’ll check in with you as soon as I’ve
assembled everything.”
“Very good.”
The general turned to go, but gave a glance over his
shoulder.
“Yes, Morgan?”
He shook his head and a hint of concern flashed in his gray
eyes. “Nothing.” He left the room.
Darien placed the Star of Nadia back in the cabinet. He had
guards who ensured no one but Morgan, Sheena and Jocelyn entered his wing of
the mansion, so he wasn’t particularly concerned about anyone stealing the
necklace. Nor had anyone known he possessed it, until now. But, of course,
Morgan would never tell a soul.
He considered his friend’s warning about entering the
village and bestowing Jade with the piece of jewelry and decided it best to
rethink both ideas.
Chapter Eight
Jade was out of wood. The fire wraith had charred several
trees alongside her cottage when it had terrorized her and had also set her
wood pile ablaze. The slayers had told her they’d put out the fire with
Morgan’s help. She’d hoped the logs and kindling she kept inside the house
would hold up awhile longer, but it was damn cold. Jinx had been right. It was
already proving to be a long, hard winter.
She strapped Tanner’s sword belt to her waist and donned
Sheena’s cape along with her own gloves. Taking her empty tinderbox outside,
she set it on the bench. She’d left the shovel leaning against the wall, having
used it to remove the snow from the short walkway and the stone patio, despite
the overhang meant to protect it.
Jade took the shovel to the side yard and dug a hole to the
hard soil beneath the knee-deep drifts. The effort was slow going, but she
didn’t have anything else to do during the day. Plus it was Sunday, so the
tavern was closed.
The physical exertion and the heavy clothing she wore kept
her warm, though she’d had to pull her scarf around face, just below her eyes,
and use the hood on the cape as a light snowfall started again.
She made a good-size dent in the bank and sighed with relief
when she discovered a bounty of fallen branches. She knelt and began collecting
them, but stilled when she heard a rider approach from behind. Her heart
already beat heavily from moving the snow, but now leaped into her throat.
Slowly, Jade returned her armful of tree limbs to the ground
and stealthily reached for the hilt of the sword. She let the horse draw
closer. Then, in a fluid movement, she whisked the blade from its protective
sheath and whirled around to face whoever sneaked up on her, sword raised.
“I thought you were told to stay inside.”
She pulled the scarf from her mouth and scowled at Darien.
“You scared the hell out of me. Try not to do that again please.”
He slipped from his Arabian’s back in a graceful way she
admired. “I’m glad to see you’re so alert.”
“Yes, heart pounding vigorously and all. Unfortunately, I’m
about to be frozen to the core. The fire wraith burned my wood supply.”
Darien frowned. His gaze slid to the two chimneys. “Not much
smoke coming from those. Do you actually have a blaze going or just smoldering
embers?”
“Embers in the living room, a little more than that in the
bedroom. I was about to take my hatchet to the legs of a chair, but I knew
there’d be plenty of debris out here.”
“Just had to dig your way to it, I see.” He came closer to
her and handed over the reins. “This is Thunder. Why don’t you walk him over to
the house? I’ll meet you inside.”
The horse neighed softly and she smiled. “Aren’t you
handsome?” She rubbed his nose and he seemed to enjoy it.
“He likes you,” the king said. “From the moment he saw you,
years ago.”
“I’m flattered,” she told Thunder. “How about a snack?”
She led him to the house. Over her shoulder, she asked, “Do
I need to tie him up?”
“No. He won’t go anywhere without me.”
“Loyalty,” she said to the Arabian. “I like that in a
horse.” He blew a snort of air, as though insulted she’d expect less of him.
She laughed. “No offense.”
Leaving the horse by the patio, she went inside and chopped
a few carrots to feed to him. Then she removed her outerwear, shaking off the
snow, and headed into the living room. She draped the wet cape, her scarf and
gloves over a clothes rack in the corner by the fireplace. Not that it
currently emitted enough heat to dry them, but eventually it would.
Darien joined her with the tinderbox nearly overflowing and
an armful of logs. “This’ll get you started. I’ll shovel out more snow and
bring in additional loads.”
He left her tending to the fire as he went back outside. She
had both fireplaces blazing bright and the house was less frigid when he
returned with a third heap he stacked next to her front door.
“This ought to last you awhile,” he said as he stripped off
his gloves and cloak.
“Thank you. You work much faster than I do.”
“I’ll have Morgan send someone with a cord of wood for your
patio.”
She smiled. “That’s nice of you. I’ll take you up on that
offer.” Fire was a necessity in her life, after all. Gazing up at him, she
asked, “What are you doing here? Other than rescuing a damsel in distress
again.”
His low chuckle added more warmth to her cozy home. “You
hardly fit that bill. You would have managed just fine without me.” The
expression on his chiseled face turned more serious. “I wanted to see you.”
Excitement lit her insides, but concern crept up on her as
well. They’d both agreed what had happened at the castle was not meant to
transcend those walls. So she asked, “Is something wrong?”
“No, not at present. The band of demons Morgan tracked has
yet to regroup. The fire wraith is nowhere to be found. And the wide-area patrols
haven’t turned up anything.”
“That’s good news.” Her apprehension dissipated. “So this is
a social call?”
A surreal notion. But certainly an intriguing one.
“I have something for you.” He reached into the wide slit of
a front pocket on his full-length leather jacket and then handed her a gift.
She smiled. “You brought
Pride and Prejudice
to me.”
“Thought it might help to pass the time.”
“Very helpful. Thank you.”
He divested himself of the jacket and then suggested, “Why
don’t we sit?” He motioned toward the sofa and followed her there, sinking into
the cushion next to her, which was on the thin side from old age. “It’s very
quiet here,” he commented.
“Yes, sometimes too quiet. Although in the late spring and
summer, I open the windows and backdoors so I can hear the river running.”
A number of times, she’d considered placing pots of
wildflowers on the patios to brighten the cottage, though she’d have to move
them in during the winter months and hope they survived without much direct
sunlight. But she hated the idea of them dying on her, so she’d never gotten
around to doing it.
“You weren’t afraid of being here alone when you were a
little girl?”
She hedged, but had to admit the truth.
“At first, it didn’t fully register because I was so upset
about my parents. I cried myself to sleep every night. Then I started to worry
if the shifters would come for me. Ironically, that’s one of the reasons I
stayed. I didn’t want them hunting me down at someone else’s home, for fear I’d
be putting other people in danger. I couldn’t stand the thought of having what
happened to my family happen to others.”
He stretched an arm along the back of the sofa, rotating his
body a few degrees so he faced her. His presence made her furniture and her
cottage seem much smaller, yet in an enjoyable, intimate way.
“That must have been an extremely difficult time,” he said.
“Yes. Every little noise frayed my nerves. But eventually, I
got used to it. Or at least, I’d resigned myself to it. I didn’t want to leave,
so I had to keep myself busy and my mind occupied so I wouldn’t be upset all
day and night or worry over every sound I heard coming from outside.”
“Is that how you learned to suppress your feelings?”
She nodded. “That’s one of the things I did to occupy
myself. I worked on pushing all the feelings down to the pit of my stomach. I’d
visualize a black hole deep inside me, and I forced all the sensations into
it.”
“But there’s no lid to cover the hole?”
“Does anyone have that kind of control over their emotions?”
He seemed to give this its due consideration. “I suppose a
few do. You’re good at it, after all.”
“Years of practice.”
“And obviously an inherent survival tactic you’ve mastered.”
“Not quite.”
They fell silent for a few moments, which were not the least
bit uncomfortable. Although it was certainly a bizarre occurrence to have the
most powerful man on the continent in her modest home, it also felt soothing.
Yet she sensed there was more to his unexpected visit than to lend her a book.
“You’re pensive,” she said. “Are you sure you don’t have
news about the fire wraith?”
“Morgan hasn’t located him. Wraiths can be very difficult to
track when they vanish completely. One of his men did locate the horse,
however. The beast didn’t survive its injury. The patrols are now reaching
further in an attempt to find the demons that had banded with the ghost.”
She studied his tense expression, then asked, “You don’t
believe they’ve simply given up?”
“No. I suspect the wraith will return. I don’t intend to
give him a reason to enter the village though. If he wants to come after me,
he’ll have to do it on my territory.”
Her heart sank. Not a sensible feeling to have, but she
couldn’t help it. “Meaning this is the last I’ll see of you.”
“My presence is what got you hurt in the first place.”
“I’m not afraid to die,” she said, a bit too quickly. His
eyes narrowed on her. “It’s a natural progression for humans, Darien. An
inescapable truth. And one that offers the hope of reuniting with the loved
ones we’ve lost along the way.”
Her response seemed to agitate him, because he stood and
began to pace in front of the fireplace.
“I wasn’t being accusatory,” she said.
He pulled up short. “I take full responsibility for my
actions and their impact on your race. I’ve already told you this.”
“That wasn’t what I was getting at all.”
Letting out a long breath, he said, “You miss your parents.
I understand that. But
you’re
alive, and you have the potential for a
richer life than you’ve recently led.”
She resisted the urge to scoff at him. “How do you figure?”
He pinned her with a look. “I have something to say that I
want you to seriously consider.”
Her curiosity mounted. “All right.”
He turned away for a few seconds and she noted his bunched
shoulders and rigid stance. Whatever he was about to say seemed to eat away at
him. She left the sofa and crossed to where he stood.
Placing a hand on his shoulder, she asked, “What is it,
Darien?”
“Likely the most difficult thing I’ve had to do since the
wars ended.” He faced her, his amber eyes clouded with dark emotions she couldn’t
read. “I want you to marry Michael.”
She stared at him, aghast.
He rushed on. “It’s the only thing that makes sense, Jade.
He’s your closest companion and the two of you could have a family together.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but he said, “If you don’t want to leave the
cottage, have him move in here.”
Anger and disbelief replaced her curiosity. “Really? Have
him move into my house, which is in perfect alignment from your bedroom
windows?”
He sighed. “You have an overhang along the back portion. I
can’t see into your house, Jade.”
“But you
can
see it.”
With a shake of his head, he said, “That’s completely
irrelevant.”
“Is it?”
The flash of frustration in his eyes told her he loathed the
idea he’d presented.
She pushed him a bit further. “You’d really be okay with
seeing our children playing in the yard or Michael and I strolling hand in hand
along the riverbank?”
His teeth ground together.
“No,” she added. “I didn’t think so.”
She moved away, returning to the sofa. He remained quiet as
he seethed or bristled or did whatever he did that made him even more
intimidating with his brooding look.
Finally, she said, “If that’s what you came here to tell me,
I get the message loud and clear.
We
can’t be together, but don’t try to
hand me off to someone you kept me from being with in the first place.”
Her own temper simmered. She crossed her arms and legs,
awaiting his response. Endless minutes ticked by, until he eventually joined
her on the couch.
“You deserve more than this, Jade. I can give you a lot, but
I can’t give you everything.”
“I’m not asking for anything.”
“That’s the problem.”
He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs, his
hands dangling between his parted legs. A defeated look, she decided. And one
she found disconcerting, particularly coming from him.
She said, “You realize we’re just picking at a scab, right?
And there’s nothing healed or pleasant underneath.”
“Maybe that’s why we’ve come back to this.” His gaze shifted
from the fire to her. “You have to admit, we’re similar in a lot of ways.”
“And worlds apart in others.”
His voice lowered and he said, “It doesn’t have to be that
way.”
“Yes it does. I can’t change who I am—I wouldn’t if I could.
And I know my place.”
He sat back and swept his fingers through her hair. “I
respect that about you. But I also want to alter it.”
“I don’t.” She unfolded her arms and linked one with his.
He glanced down at her and she stared deep into his eyes,
wishing she had the magic words to take away the haunted expression plaguing
him. “Darien, I’m okay with being human and facing an hourglass with the sand
running out. When my time is up, it’ll probably be a lot more peaceful for me.
I’m also happy with my position in this community. I can live with the destiny
designed for me.”
His brow furrowed. “Anyone can do that, Jade. But to change
it… That takes courage and imagination.”
She leaned toward him and whispered against his lips, “You
exhaust me the way your mind is constantly churning.”
He let out a low groan. “I’d like to exhaust you with my
body.”
Moving into his lap, she wrapped her arms around his neck
and said, “You didn’t just come here to bring me reading material, did you? Or
to spew some sort of valiant and selfless crap about wanting me to build a life
with another man.”
“I do want you to be happy.”